She knew her blue dress had rumpled from the ride and her hair must be disheveled around her shoulders, but the world looked crystal clear. Nodding to a group of young men waiting for supper, she stepped into line, taking a tin plate in hand. Aromas of roasting beef, bubbling gravy, and freshly baked cornbread wafted in the air. Though the scent was heavenly, RuthAnne’s stomach was in knots. That was Bowen’s fault. The man drove her to distraction. Coming for food was more for survival than outright hunger. She couldn’t bear to return to the confines of her quarters in the stifling evening heat. RuthAnne knew she was out of sorts, but there wasn’t much she could do about it. Things were starting to come to a head. She would have to send a telegram tomorrow calling for the army transport to deliver their shipment from storage. She needed to meet with the new quartermaster and explain her situation. This twisted her insides. Evan had always been the one who conducted their business dealings, and now it was finally her turn.
